


The Barista

by lifeofafandomatic



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-05-12 05:17:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5653789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lifeofafandomatic/pseuds/lifeofafandomatic





	The Barista

Alec Lightwood wasn’t a big fan of coffee, but the winter chill was nipping at his face so fiercely that he pulled his scarf around his neck a little tighter before venturing into the nearest coffee shop he could find. _Maybe a cup will warm me up,_ he thought to himself. _I’ll be late for class, but I’d rather get a bad grade than frostbite._

It was too early for the rush of high school students out for lunch, but too late for the barrage of stern-looking office people grabbing their steaming cups before work. As he pushed open the door, he could hear a woman shouting, “Why on _earth_ would you put up a sign like that?” The bell over the door chimed happily, signaling Alec’s arrival. Both the woman yelling (the manager, Alec assumed) and the barista turned to look at him as he sheepishly entered the store.

“I’m so sorry,” he muttered. “I’ll leave if this is a bad time.”

“Not at all.” The barista smiled. He was a spunky kid around Alec’s age—probably a college student like he was working part-time—with dark hair and even darker eyes that seemed to pull Alec toward the counter. It was then he noticed the sign that the manager had probably been yelling about. It read:

 

_TODAY YOUR BARISTA IS:_

_1\. Hella fucking gay._

_2\. Desperately single._

_FOR YOUR DRINK TODAY I RECOMMEND:_

_You give me your number._

 

“So, what can I get for you today?” the barista said.

“Uh….” For once, Alec was at a loss for words. What _did_ he want? “What would you suggest?” he asked dumbly.

“What does the board say?” He winked at Alec before the manager slapped him not too gently on the shoulder. “Do your job,” she hissed before going into the back room.

"Seriously, what would you recommend?" Alec tried to hide the blush creeping into his cheeks by staring around the shop, avoiding the barista's eyes. 

"How about this: I fix up my favorite blend, and you have to guess what it is." Alec nodded before taking a seat by the window. Only a minute had passed before the barista sat in front of him with a takeaway coffee cup. "Try it," he said, stripping off his apron and throwing it to the floor. 

Alec fumbled around in his wallet. "How much?"

"It's on me."

Once more, Alec was drawn in by the barista's dark eyes. "Thank you," he said gratefully, putting the wallet back into his bag. 

The barista shrugged. "Drink up, stranger."

"Alec," he said before realizing it. "My name is Alec." Bracing himself for the bitterness that was sure to follow, Alec was surprised when nothing other than a perfect mix of sweet and salty hit his tastebuds. "What is this?"

"You're supposed to guess."

"I don't know. Tell me."

The barista smirked, almost as if he had a secret. "Come back tomorrow, and I'll tell you." Sweeping the apron off the floor, the barista returned behind the counter. 

"Wait, " Alec said. "I didn't catch your name." 

"Never gave it." The barista flashed him another cheeky grin before disappearing into the back room. Clutching the steaming cup of deliciousness, Alec hurried out the door before the barista could return. 

~*~

At first, Alec returned to the coffee shop out of curiosity. Every day, the barista would give Alec a new brew to try, and wouldn't tell him its contents until the next day. At some point, he began thinking of his new friend as _his_ barista, although when that happened, he couldn't be sure. Soon he was returning not for a new brew, but just for a chance to see his barista again. 

For the next few weeks, Alec's barista was there every day without fail. It became the norm in Alec's life, and he couldn't imagine a time when he hated the bitter tang of java, not when his barista had opened his tastebuds to the possibility of more exotic, unique flavors. However, he entered the shop one day to find only the manager dusting off one of the machines. She turned around and smiled as the bell chimed. Spring had finally arrived in New York, and the sun shone into the shop, the natural rays lighting up the space. “Hey,” she said, her tone friendly. “You’re that friend of Magnus, yeah? The one he keeps talking to during his shift?”

“Magnus?”

“Yeah. Magnus Bane. He’s the barista you keep coming here for.”

“He’s not why I come…,” Alec began.

“Don’t try to hide it,” she interrupted good naturedly. “I can see it in the way both of you act. If you’re looking for him, he’s not here.”

“Why not?”

“He quit yesterday afternoon. I thought he’d told you. I guess I shouldn’t expect so much from him; he likes to be a mystery sometimes.”

“Do you know where he went?”

The manager shook her head. “Sorry, kid. He never told me. Just said that he wanted to see the world outside the shop a little more.”

“Oh.” Alec couldn’t help but be disappointed. Why hadn’t Magnus said anything? Didn’t they have something special going on?

“Do you want anything?”

“A salted caramel mocha, please.” It was the first thing Magnus had given him, and it was still his favorite. He fumbled in his wallet before realizing he didn’t actually know what it cost. In fact, he didn’t know what _any_ of the drinks Magnus had prepared for him cost. He’d never had to pay. He settled on throwing a five dollar bill on the counter. It was probably more than enough, but it was the least he could do for bothering the manager so much.

“Hey, cheer up,” the manager said, handing him the cup and taking the bill. “He left something for you, in case you came by.” She pulled a slip of paper out of her apron and handed it to Alec. Messily written on it was a number and the message: _You didn’t give me your number, so I’m giving you mine. Call some time. —The Barista._

“Thank you,” Alec said as he pulled out his phone. He had a barista to call.

~*~

When Magnus finally picked up after five tries, Alec didn’t know what to feel. Disappointment? Anger? Joy? When had Magnus become so important to him? Finally, he settled on, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“About what?”  
“Don’t play with me, Magnus,” Alec said tiredly, staring out the window of his apartment. It wasn’t big, just enough for two people, and he was looking for a roommate to split the rent with. So far, he had no luck. “I want to know why you quit your job and didn’t say anything.”

“I want to see the world. I want to see _more_.”

“Well, why didn’t you say goodbye to me?” He hated how needy he sounded. How, after only a few weeks, he clung to the presence of his barista like a lifeline.

The doorbell rang just then, and Alec went over to open the door. To his surprise, Magnus stood there, all dark and exotic like the coffees he brewed, phone held to his ear. “Because I wanted you to come with me.” With his long legs, Magnus covered the distance between them in two steps, and suddenly Alec was wrapped up in his arms and kissing him before he could even realize it. His phone clattered to the ground in his shock, and things suddenly became clearer to him. He could understand why he began thinking of Magnus as _his_ barista, and why he went to the coffee shop to seek out Magnus every day without fail.

He was in love with him.

“I want to see the world,” Magnus repeated, “with you. That is, if you’d like to. If that’s fine with you?” Alec had never seen Magnus so flustered before. Usually, he was so confident and flamboyant that nervousness was not a trait that came to mind when one thought of Magnus Bane. Alec smiled sheepishly, knowing in his heart that this was all he wanted.

“Okay.”


End file.
